To Call Your Name
by AngelG93
Summary: It's 1910, and the Ishvalan War goes on. Ed and Al return to find their home a battleground. Ed gets closer to the battle, but when Al follows him, he is shot and killed. Ed tries to revive him and confronts the Truth, telling it he had so much more to say to Al. In accordance with this desire, the Truth takes his voice as the toll for his arrogance. T for language, violence, etc.
1. Casualties

_**To Call Your Name**_

_**by AngelG93**_

* * *

A/N: Inspiration for this struck like lightning, and one should, in turn, strike while the iron is hot, so here is the first chapter. Subsequent chapters may take longer because I have two crossover fics running right now that take priority (_Nowhere is Safe_ and _An Unsound Soul_ – feel free to check them out ^_^).

Okay, for this story to work, I'm extending the Ishvalan War into the year 1910, when the plot begins. Other than that, I'm using the manga and _Brotherhood_ as my main references for canonicity (I do so love big words).

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Casualties**

"Brother?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think Risembool will have changed much since we left for Dublith with Teacher?"

"Mm."

"What do you mean, 'mm'? Are you even listening to me, Brother?"

"Uh-huh. Yeah, sure."

"You're not listening at all, are you?"

"Whatever you say, Al." The elder brother then realized his mistake and hastily made to cover for himself. "I mean, of course I was listening!"

"Liar."

"Don't call me a liar." Ed promptly thwacked his little brother with a finger, leaving a small red area on the boy's forehead.

"_Ow!_ Ed! I thought you'd moved past the phase of hitting me."

"I didn't hit you, I thwacked you."

"It still hurt."

"Don't be a baby, Al," The elder brother said as he returned to his previous occupation of watching objects whiz by the window. He'd always enjoyed traveling on trains – the rush of the wind, the steady rhythm of the wheels clattering underneath, the swaying motion of the cars as they raced along the metal rails. It was a mechanical lullaby of sorts, one that often overpowered him with its unexplainable charm. He had been in tune with that man-made melody when Al had asked him about Risembool, and now he would have to resettle into it. Maybe he would be able to nod off before they reached the station…

"Brother, is… is that smoke?"

"What?" Ed sat up and looked where Al was pointing. Sure enough, plumes billowed upward from ahead of them… where their destination lay. "What the hell?"

Normally, Al got on Ed's case about his foul language, but not this time. When the train pulled beside the humble platform, both boys had grabbed their luggage and stood ready to leap off as soon as the steel behemoth slowed to a halt. After doing so, the brothers looked again toward the distant smoke.

"It… it looks like it's coming from close to where we live," Al noted timidly.

"I sure as hell hope not, but I'm sure Granny will know what's going on. Let's go." And so, they made their way toward the Rockbells', following the familiar dirt roads. When they could finally see the house on the horizon, they heard the first blast. Another quickly followed, and another.

"What's that sound?"

In answer to Alphonse's question, a screeching filled the air. Seconds later, the Rockbells' house exploded. Both boys gasped and bolted to the scene. Wood, stone, and earth had all been churned together in a pile of burning wreckage, so hot that Ed and Al were forced to keep a considerable distance.

"It's that damn war! Why hasn't the military stopped it yet? They're supposed to _protect_ us, dammit!"

"Ed… you don't think… you don't think Granny and Winry were… inside, do you?"

Now that Al had raised the question, Ed couldn't push the possibility away. "There's no way to know," he said, much more bravely than he felt. "Let's hope not."

More canon fire sounded in the distance, and Ed could make out the figures of soldiers moving through a deserted pasture. Setting down his trunk, he climbed on top of a rock to get a better look.

"Brother, don't you think we should move?" Al asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," Ed answered after a moment. "I want to get closer."

"Closer? Are you crazy? We could get killed!"

"We'll stay low. As long as no one sees us, we'll be fine. Come on."

"But, _Ed_-"

"What? You're not _scared_, are you, Al?"

The smallest of offended tears collected in Al's eyes as he admitted, "Yes, I am. I'm scared that I'm going to lose you, too. Let's not go down there, Brother, _please_."

But the elder brother had made up his young mind. He wanted to see up-close why these incompetent bastards from the military couldn't put a stop to all of this fighting. Not waiting for Al to relent, Ed began his descent, using the sparse trees for cover as much as possible. At the base of the hill was a gully about a yard deep, narrow enough for Ed to hop over with effort. Once he reached level ground again, he ducked behind a cluster of bushes and waited. Around him lay discarded weaponry – canons, sandbags, guns… just more remnants of war. When he finally peeked over the top of the vegetation, Ed saw not Amestrian military, but Ishvalan rebels encamped on the next ridge. _Whoa_, he goggled. _I've never seen an Ishvalan before_.

"Ed?" whispered Al from several yards up the hill. "Brother, please, come back. It's dangerous."

"No, it isn't. Come on and join me, Al."

"I… I don't want to. It's not safe down there."

"Quick being such a crybaby and come on!" Ed hissed as quietly as he could, motioning to Al.

Looking miserable, Al emerged from his hiding place and edged cautiously down the hill. Then, he momentarily lost his footing and kicked a rock in his haste to regain his balance. The stone clattered loudly against an idle piece of artillery… and that was all it took. A gunshot broke the silence, and Al's eyes widened. The boy looked down at his shirt where a dark stain was slowly spreading across his chest. Then, he met his brother's gaze, still in shock, and fell forward, tumbling down the hill and into the shallow ravine.

"AL!" Ed screamed, forgetting everything else and running to the spot where Al had disappeared. More shots rang from across the field, and Ed felt a bullet connect with his left calf. His muscles seized up in response to the wound, and he, too, tipped over the edge of the gully. The Ishvalans probably wouldn't pursue; they would think he was dead, just like-

_No_, the small blonde chided himself. _No, don't think that! He can't be… Al can't…_ He dragged himself to his little brother's side, lifting the trembling form into his lap and rocking fitfully. "Al… Al! Come on! Say something!"

The younger brother opened his eyes halfway, and though they were filled with a mix of emotions, the strongest by far was forgiveness. "Buh… Brother…" Already the light was fading from the golden orbs.

"No! No, Al! I'm so sorry! This is all my fault! Please, don't leave me! Don't do this, Al, _please_!"

Alphonse brushed Ed's face with a tender hand. "It… it's okay. I'm… going to see Mom. I'll… send her… your love, Ed." As his brother's name left Al's pale lips, his hand fell back onto the trampled grass, and his gaze drifted toward the sky until it formed an unblinking, unseeing stare. A smile still graced the boy's mouth as the remaining color drained from his face and his body grew cold and still.

"Al?" Ed choked. "Al? Come on, Al. You… you're not… you can't…" Only by remembering that enemy forces were still nearby did the elder Elric keep himself from screaming again. Instead, he dropped his forehead against Al's and whispered his brother's name over and over, as if, by repeating it enough times, he could draw the soul back into the lifeless body.

As evening approached, Ed suddenly had an idea: a wonderful idea. He _could_ still save Al; he _could_ bring him back. In the last few days of their training with Izumi, Ed had finished his diagram for the circle that would revive their mother. It was ingrained in his memory perfectly, and he wouldn't need any extra ingredients. He could do it, _right now_.

Using a mixture of his and Al's blood, Ed painted the array on the low turf, making adjustments for the semicircular surface of the ground. He then placed Al's body in the center and pressed his hands against the circle, willing it to activate and hoping beyond hope that the Ishvalans wouldn't see the transmutation.

* * *

He stood before an endless void, whiter than anything he'd ever seen before. Looking behind him, Ed saw a towering set of stone doors, carved with a pattern he recognized as a Sephiroth Tree. "Weird," he mumbled. "Wait a sec. What was I doing before?"

"Hello," said an unearthly voice, like the whispers of millions joined in one. Whirling around, Ed found a shadowy figure sitting cross-legged in front of him.

"Who are you?"

"Oh! I'm so glad you asked! I am called by many names. I'm the world, I am the universe, I am God, I am Truth, I am all, I am one, and I am also… you." It pointed a transparent finger at Ed, and the boy suddenly heard the creaking of the doors behind him swinging wide. The faceless being continued, "You have dared to knock on the door. Now, the door is open." Black hands emerged from the darkness, wrapping around Ed and dragging him into the depths. Scared out of his senses, Ed screeched in alarm. "Quiet, child," the entity hushed. "This _is_ what you wanted, isn't it? I will show you… the Truth."

The doors slammed shut, encasing Ed inside. Streams of pure knowledge bombarded his senses. It was like all of the information in the world was being poured into his brain at once. "It's too much!" he shrieked. "It's too much! Make it stop!" The black hands began unraveling his body as easily as loose thread. "What's happening to me? Stop it! Make it stop!" Then, for an instant, it all became clear – the Truth… of everything. He saw Al just up ahead, holding out his hand for Ed's and smiling warmly. "AL! Al, wait! I'm coming! Just wait, I'll-"

_SLAM!_ He was outside the doors, his body whole once again, standing with his hand extended toward where Al had just been.

"How was it?" asked the Truth.

Ed fixed the being with a fierce glare. "What happened? Where did Al go? What have you done with him?"

"That's a stupid question, young alchemist. Your brother is dead; I haven't done anything with him."

"You're lying! You have to be! I have to bring him back!"

"That is impossible."

"But…" Ed turned back toward the doors, "but it was all in there – the truth about Human Transmutation. It's possible; it must be! All the knowledge I need is right here! Please, you have to show it to me again!"

The entity finally rose from its seat and sighed, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Why not? You have to! I'm going to bring him back! You can't take him from me! You're going to give him back, you hear me? I… I had so much I didn't get to say to him! It's my fault he's dead! I talked him into coming with me! I have to make it right! I _have_ to bring him back!"

"So much you wanted to say?" the Truth repeated. "Is that so?"

"Yes, so _please_, let me see it again."

"As I said before, I can't do that. I've already shown you as much as I can for the toll you've paid."

"Toll? What toll?"

The shadowy being approached him, backing him up against the closed gateway. "This. Surely you knew." It touched his throat, and Ed choked as something began to feel very, very wrong inside of him. The Truth's face contorted into a menacing, mocking grin as it concluded, "It's the law of Equivalent Exchange – right, young alchemist?"

Suddenly, Ed experienced a dropping sensation, and the next thing he knew, his legs collided with earth. The pain of the bullet wound returned in full force, so sharply that Ed cried out… or, at least, he tried to. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Then, he lurched forward and coughed blood onto the ground. As he suppressed more convulsions, his watering eyes landed on Al's body. But, it looked nothing like his little brother anymore – the limbs had been contorted, sticking out at impracticable angles, the features twisted beyond recognition. It was a monster; he had created a monster… and it was still dead. He had failed. Overcome by misery, Ed broke down into sobs, but still no cry came from him. He tried to say Al's name, to call for him one more time, but it was useless. Ed finally realized what was wrong, what the toll had been. He rested a trembling hand against his throat where the Truth had touched him... and admitted the reality. His voice was gone.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, this is not a cheerful story. But, I have the most fun writing that kind; angst comes much more naturally to me than fluff does.

I figured, since 11-year-old Edward is especially cocky, that he would want to get close to a battle, unlike the ever-sensible Alphonse.

No joke – "Sephiroth Tree" is the name of the diagram on Ed's Door of Truth. I looked it up. *hurr*


	2. Soldiers

_**To Call Your Name**_

_**by AngelG93**_

* * *

A/N: Have I caught your attention? I hope so.

I'm going to aim for one-word chapter titles, possibly all of them plural nouns.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Soldiers**

He sat in the gully all night, horrified by all that he had done in the past twenty-four hours. Worst of all, he was now alone, completely alone. Al could never come back, and Ed could never call his name again. The Truth was cruel beyond reckoning… but, then again, so was _he_. He, Edward Elric, had used that foul, taunting mouth of his to lure his brother to his death. In that sense, his inability to speak ever again was only fair… an equivalent exchange.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, Ed heard the sounds of battle recommence. And then, it ended, leaving only the noises of troops marching and officers giving orders. The Amestrians must have overrun the Ishvalan encampment. Deciding it was safe to emerge from the ravine, Ed pulled himself up over the edge and looked at the incoming battalions. Their faces were stern, hardened, and unfriendly. A knot formed in Ed's stomach; he didn't want to go anywhere near people like that. He scrambled to his feet – a difficult task because of his still-bleeding leg – and hobbled in the opposite direction. Before he had gotten far, however, a hand grabbed the back of his collar and held him in place.

"Well, well, what have we here?" said a man with crazed eyes and a disquieting grimace. His long black hair was tied back in a ponytail except for two strands that dangled in front of his face, dancing in the breeze. "A little brat, from the looks of it. Probably all alone, too. Maybe I should just put you out of your misery, kid." The man wrapped his other hand around Ed's neck, squeezing it slowly. "Lights out. Nice meeting ya."

Ed wished he could cry out, let someone know what was happening. Then again, if he died right here, he would see Al again, and his mom, too. With that in mind, dying didn't seem so bad. Darkness lapped at the edges of his vision – it wouldn't be long now.

"Kimblee!" yelled another dark-haired man. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Cleaning up," replied the first calmly.

"Don't be cheeky with me, you bastard! Let that innocent child go, or I'll reduce you to a pile of ashes."

"That's some threat, Lieutenant Colonel. Are you big enough to follow through on it?"

"Are _you_ willing to chance it?"

A pause, then Kimblee relaxed his grip on Ed, and the boy sank to his knees, gasping for breath.

"Fine, then," the soldier said. "If you're _so eager_ to help some random brat, I'll leave _you_ to deal with him, Mustang." He then strode off in the direction of the other troops, passing a woman with short, blonde hair on his way.

The man called Mustang crouched down beside Ed and tried to look into his face. "Hey, there. I'm sorry about that. Kimblee's… well, I don't think insane covers it. Did he hurt you much?"

Massaging his neck, Ed looked up into the sympathetic face and shook his head.

"Good," Mustang sighed. "What's your name?"

Instinctively, Ed gave the right response, but, of course, it was inaudible.

"Sorry? I didn't catch that."

Ed tried to convey his predicament, but the soldier's brow only grew more and more furrowed.

"Look, little one, where's your family? You can just point."

Holding back his tears, Ed shakily indicated the gully where what was left of Alphonse's body lay concealed. Mustang called over his shoulder to the blonde woman, "Lieutenant Hawkeye, I need to check something out. Watch this boy for me."

"Sir," Hawkeye replied dutifully. Once her commanding officer had strode in the direction in which Ed had pointed, she sat next to the small blonde and smiled with a warmth Ed didn't expect from a solider. As she bound his leg wound, he returned the smile as best he could, blinking away the sorrow that still longed to come out.

"Lieutenant!" Mustang shouted, his voice filled with horror. "Bring him here, now!"

Hawkeye gently, but insistently guided Ed back to the small ravine, and the boy instantly knew he was in big trouble. After all, Human Transmutation was forbidden.

Mustang leveled Ed with a stern gaze. "Did you do this?"

Mustering all of his courage, Ed nodded.

The lieutenant colonel glanced down at the deformed corpse and noted, "The hair color... was this… your brother, perhaps?"

Ed nodded again, unable to hold back his grief any longer as hot tears leaked unbidden out of his eyes.

"And you tried to bring him back? On the spot?"

Another round of nodding.

"That… that's unbelievable. A boy your age attempting Human Transmutation and surviving – remarkable. Well, don't worry. We'll let your brother rest in peace." Mustang pulled on a glove with a transmutation circle drawn on the back of the hand. Ed futilely tried to ask what he was going to do, but his silent question was soon answered. Mustang snapped his fingers, and flames engulfed the array of blood and the mangled corpse, destroying all of the evidence. "I won't tell anyone about this, kid. I can promise you that."

"Now," he continued, returning to Ed's eye level, "It would help me a lot to know your name, little one."

Ed had always hated being called little, but that didn't seem as important now, so he let it go. Finding some loose dirt, the small blonde drew letters with a finger, slowly forming the words.

"Edward Elric," read Mustang. "Well, Edward, let's see if we can find who you belong to." When the boy shook his head sadly, the lieutenant colonel raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'no'? Haven't you any other family?" Ed gave him the same answer; after all, he wasn't about to try and claim _that man_ as his father.

"So, then, what should we do, sir?" asked Hawkeye, placing a comforting hand on Ed's shoulder.

"Well… I guess we don't have any other choice but to take him back to camp with us. If he's willing to talk to us later, maybe we can find… _something_."

"And, if not?"

"We'll still find something," Mustang replied determinedly, patting the small blonde on the head. "You'll be safe with us, Edward. I don't know how long you sat out here with that body, but you don't have to be alone anymore."

His kind words melted Ed's strength like warm butter. He slumped onto the ground and wept uncontrollably, shallow gasps the only sounds escaping him. After letting the boy have a good cry, Mustang reached down and lifted the small, trembling form into his arms. "I've got you, little one."

* * *

Even after he and Hawkeye had put young Edward to bed in his tent, Roy Mustang still debated over what exactly he was supposed to do with that child. He was obviously a talented alchemist, and – as far as they could make out – he hadn't a relation in the world. _Poor kid_, he lamented, thinking back to his own childhood as an orphan. _Maybe I could… no, I'm a soldier aiming for the top. That's no proper life for a child to get mixed up in. I'll find something; I have to._

"Sir?" Lieutenant Hawkeye said, emerging from the tent. "He's finally asleep."

"Good. For now, we'll have to look after him ourselves, I suppose."

"Maybe there are distant relations he's not aware of, or family friends somewhere."

"All we can do is hope," Roy sighed.

Just then, the heavy footsteps of Brigadier General Basque Grand shook the ground as the large, menacing officer approached the two soldiers. Mustang and Hawkeye immediately stood at attention, saluting their superior.

"Major Kimblee tells me that you two picked up something strange on the battlefield this morning," growled Grand, his handlebar mustache twitching.

"We found a lost child, sir," Roy began to explain, but Grand cut him off.

"You don't have time to rescue every lost little lamb you come across. You're a soldier, Mustang; act like one! Where is this child now?"

Hawkeye reluctantly motioned toward the tent, and the Brigadier General stormed inside. Moments later, he returned, gripping Edward by arm.

"What are you going to do with him, sir?" Mustang asked worriedly. "We've wiped out this entire area; there isn't another living person for miles."

"That's not our problem," snapped Grand coldly. "If this brat's worthy of survival, he can do it on his own."

* * *

The tall, scary man's words sent a chill through Ed. They were going to throw him out, leave him to die like trash. A burning opposition flared inside of him, and he acted without thinking. Pressing his hands together, Ed felt a humming resonate within his entire body as he touched a nearby sandbag and set off a harmless, but distracting explosion. Grand's grip slackened long enough for the boy to wrench his arm free and run.

"Get back here, you brat!" the Brigadier General thundered.

_Like hell_, Ed thought bitterly, vaulting over a stack of firearms and searching frantically for a hiding place. Eventually, he dove under a pile of tarps, hoping that the lumpy mass would conceal his shape. He was just in time; Grand caught up to him within seconds.

"Where'd you go?" the soldier mused aloud.

"Sir!" Mustang pressed. "I hardly think this is necessary."

"Are you blind, Mustang?" Grand barked. "That brat just performed alchemy without a transmutation circle. There's something more going on here. For all we know, what you found is an Ishvalan weapon."

"But, he doesn't even remotely _look_ Ishvalan!"

"That's just what they _want_ you to think. In wartime, you can never be too careful about these things." A menacing silence followed, and Ed could feel Grand's eyes boring into him.

_Someone help me_, he whimpered silently. _Please, someone. Anyone_.

But, of course, no one heard him. He must have taken too sudden of a breath, because a second later, the tarps flew off, and Grand grabbed both of his arms, keeping them apart. Ed cried out as best he could without a voice, kicking, pulling, and flailing.

"From here on, stay out of this business, Mustang. If I see you anywhere near this child, there'll be consequences. Understand?"

"…yes, sir."

"Same goes for you, Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"Yes, sir," replied the woman forlornly, hanging her head.

With that, Grand promptly dragged the struggling boy to another area of the camp, partitioned off by screens of cloth. It must have been the medical station because surgeons and doctors shuffled around in bloodstained aprons, carrying saws and syringes and the like. Ed had never liked needles or hospitals; even when Aunty and Uncle Rockbell had given him checkups, he'd made a big fuss. Grand approached a particularly creepy bespectacled doctor whose face was half-concealed by a protective mask. "I hear you're the one to talk to about… strange developments."

"Indeed, I am," replied the doctor eerily. "What have you brought for me, Brigadier General?"

Grand glanced down at Ed coldly. "This puny brat Mustang brought in can perform alchemy without a transmutation circle."

"Is that so?" chortled the doctor, clapping his hands in delight. "Well, then, I'll gladly take him off of your hands. Thank you _very much_, General Grand."

The soldier pushed Ed to the ground so hard that the small blonde's head collided painfully with the packed earth. In his moment of disorientation, he felt something sharp and cold prick him in the shoulder, filling him with a somnolent numbness. The doctor was drugging him! He tried to resist it, but his body had become his enemy, and, in less than a minute, the chemicals dragged him down into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

A/N: Writing a mute character is such an exciting challenge for me, especially when it's eleven-year-old Edward Elric.

You might be thinking, "How come Ed didn't bleed out from that leg wound?" The bleeding slacked off since he was sitting down for so long, and it was more of a graze anyway.

Okay, I know the bodies alchemists create with Human Transmutation don't at all match physically with the people they're supposed to, but then I remembered what happened to the Gold-Toothed Doctor when Pride forced Mustang into Human Transmutation. The body came back deformed, but it was still obvious that it was the Doctor's. In the same way, Al's hair color (and Ed pointing to him when Mustang asked about his family) was enough for Mustang to guess the body's identity, even though the rest of the corpse was disfigured.

In case you forgot, Ed sometimes refers to Hohenheim as "that man."

Once again, I managed to sneak some parental!Roy into one of my stories - I love it so much…

Ed's fear of needles is technically based in the 2003 anime, but I think it's really cute, so I brought it in.

I've never written Basque Grand before – the meanie. I kind of incorporated the idea from the 2003 anime where Grand was more involved in the evil experiments and whatnot, but here's my explanation for it: since Kimblee and Grand are largely of the same mind, the Crimson Alchemist might have let slip that there's a place in Central where big, bad projects go on in secret. So, when presented with some freak kid who can do alchemy without a circle, Grand immediately turns him over to The Fifth Laboratory people to be "studied." Make sense?


	3. Experiments

_**To Call Your Name**_

_**by AngelG93**_

* * *

A/N: *_Dragon Ball Z_ announcer voice* What will happen to our intrepid, silent hero? Find out, now!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Experiments**

The cold, stone floor was the first thing Ed noticed as the drug's effects faded. The next thing he realized was that his hands were bound in such a way that alchemy would be impossible, even with the knowledge he had brought back from the Portal of Truth. It was only _then_ that he spotted the pair of luminescent eyes watching him from the darkness. Sitting up in alarm, Ed scooted away from the glowing orbs until he bumped into something warm and slightly squishy.

"Easy there," said a deep, rumbling voice. "Hey, Dolcetto. I think you scared him."

"Hey! Why're you picking on me? It's not _my_ fault my eyes glow in the dark," muttered a slightly snarky voice. At his outcry, several other pairs of eyes popped out of the blackness, giving the illusion of a starry night, except much scarier.

"Just give me a sec," cut in a third speaker, a woman this time. After a few faint sparks, a small flame illuminated the room. Ed was in a stark, concrete cell with about a dozen other people… and they were all - including himself – completely naked. He quickly averted his eyes from the woman who'd lit the fire, blushing furiously.

"Aw, look at that," laughed Dolcetto. "He must think you're pretty, Martel. Don't worry about it, kid. She's not much to look at."

"Zip it, or I'll bite you," snapped Martel, and Ed could have sworn he heard a legitimate hiss in her oily voice.

"Just give him some time," said the large man who had spoken first. "He'll get used to it eventually."

"That assumes he'll live long enough," snorted Dolcetto.

"You always were a softie for the little ones, Roa," said a new, higher-pitched voice, "but, in this place, kindness won't do him any good."

"Since when did you become a pessimist, Bido?" Roa asked. All four of them laughed with surprising geniality, and, all the while, Ed kept his eyes glued to the floor.

"Hey, kid," Dolcetto said at last. "How'd _you_ end up in here?"

Ed made a gesture to his throat and shook his head.

"You don't want to tell us?"

Ed repeated the motion, making a slash in the air over his throat.

"I… I don't think he can talk," said Martel, a tinge of sympathy entering her tone.

"Poor kid," lamented Roa, patting Ed on the back with a thickset hand.

"So, do you think they'll make him one of us?" asked Bido. The question drew Ed's curiosity, and, in turn, his gaze. Bido was a small man with greyish skin and discolored patches splattered all over his body, but what really caught Ed's attention was the tail. If he had still been capable of speech, he might have sworn, or screamed, or _both_. "It's a beauty, isn't it?" teased Bido in reaction to Ed's dropped jaw.

"Leave him be," Roa insisted.

"Hey, guys," Dolcetto said suddenly as he intently sniffed the air. "Someone's coming."

Martel doused the light just before the heavy bolt retracted with a _click_ and the door creaked open. Standing silhouetted by the electric lights were half a dozen men in white lab coats, one of which Ed recognized as the doctor who'd been in Risembool, the one who'd drugged him. Ed made to charge the man down, but Roa kept him seated.

"Well, someone's eager," snickered the doctor, turning to his coworkers. "You all have your tasks." They nodded and began herding the prisoners into corners, singling out a handful and directing them out into the bright hallway.

"See ya later, Heinkel," Dolcetto called light-heartedly to a man with bright blonde hair and a thick mustache. Heinkel only growled in response, the way a lion would. The sound made all the hair on Ed's neck stand on end, but he was quickly distracted by the bespectacled doctor who know stood over him. He grinned down at the boy, revealing a golden tooth amongst the white pearls. Ed could feel himself trembling; what was this man going to do to him? Would he turn him into some kind of monster? At length, the doctor seized him by the upper arm and forced him to start walking. Just before Ed passed out of sight from the doorway, he saw Roa wave to him in a sad farewell.

After several minutes of journeying along a seemingly never-ending passage, the gold-toothed doctor pulled Ed into a room that resembled the union of a hospital ward and a torture chamber. More lab-coat-clad scientists were gathered around an empty operating table, and the sight flooded Ed's brain with panic. He tugged violently against the doctor's grip, but it was no good. His captor hefted him onto the table and belted him down with thick straps, all the while giving instructions to his underlings. One of the elder men present met Ed's fearful gaze with guilt and pity, but he was quickly lost again in the swarm of white coats. The small blonde strained against the bonds, mouthing pleas that were easily ignored. Gold-Tooth accepted a tray holding various sharp implements from an orderly and set about finding a thick vein on the inner side of Ed's right elbow. He was about to inject a needle-tipped tube into the boy's skin when someone's voice made him pause.

"Sir?" It was the man Ed had seen before, the one who didn't look nearly as scary as the others. What was a man with eyes as kind as his doing in a place like this?

"What is it, Dr. Marcoh?"

"I would like to take charge of this project. Please, leave everything to me."

Gold-Tooth grinned. "That is your privilege as a head researcher. All right. I'll put this in your hands, Doctor. But, if I get the feeling that not enough is being done, I'll have to stick my head back in here."

"Yes, sir. I understand."

The sinister doctor set down the tubing and needle, wiped his hands, and strolled from the room like a bad dream moving on to seek another victim. The orderlies accompanied him, leaving only Dr. Marcoh, who approached the table, covered Ed's exposed body with a thin blanket, and placed a warm hand on the boy's forehead. "Don't worry. I'm going to do my best not to hurt you."

Feeling a little comforted by this, the small blonde watched Marcoh pick up the needle left by his predecessor. He held the sliver of metal so Ed could see it clearly as he explained, "I need to put this in your arm. Trust me, it will help." His voice was so reassuring that Ed couldn't help but believe him, so he stayed still while Marcoh inserted the needle and hooked up an IV with several different drips. Pretty soon, Ed felt sleepy again, having to fight to keep his eyelids open. Marcoh examined a clipboard, muttering to himself as he read aloud. "'The subject had demonstrated the ability to transmute without the aid of any kind of alchemical diagram. Ascertain the cause of this, and report findings directly to the Fuhrer. This is a top priority analysis.' Honestly, these people… they don't know how to simply _ask_ for answers." Returning his attention to Ed, Marcoh added, "I don't suppose you could just tell me how it is you can do this?"

Ed shrugged as best he could in his restrained position. In his gut, he knew his newfound ability was a result of his attempt at Human Transmutation, but there was no easy way to explain this to the doctor. Marcoh seemed to sense his hesitation and mustered a smile. "You can talk to me, you know."

Ed wagged his head slightly before slowly enunciating the soundless words: _I… can't… talk… at… all_.

Marcoh's face filled with compassion. "Why is that? Can you try to explain it?"

Ed thrust his head toward the clipboard in the doctor's hands, and eventually, the message got through.

"Do you mean the reason you can't speak and the reason for your adept alchemy are the same?"

The boy nodded forlornly, and Marcoh's expression grew somber.

"You… you tried it, didn't you?"

Ed's regretful eyes were all the answer he needed.

"I see." He turned a valve on one of the drip bags so that more of the unknown compound flowed through the tube. When the liquid spread throughout his bloodstream, Ed knew he was going to pass out again. As the light faded, he hoped desperately that Marcoh was as good of a man as he seemed.

* * *

"Look at that. I think he's coming out of it."

"About damn time! After all, how much anesthetic can they give one kid before it kills him?"

"Shh, not so loud."

"Oh, sorry."

The two voices were familiar – Bido and Dolcetto. Ed slowly opened his eyes to find them leaning over him curiously. When the small blonde groggily sat up, he realized that the rest of the cell was empty. Trying to discover the reason for this, Ed made a sweeping gesture around the room and gave the two a quizzical look.

"That's just how things work here, kid," Dolcetto groaned. "Some days, they take us out for testing; others, we're stuck in this damn cell for every waking minute… or sleeping, for that matter. Frankly, I don't know which kind of day is worse."

"So, what'd they do to you?" Bido asked excitedly. "Those bandages have to be there for a reason, right?"

_Bandages? _Ed hadn't even noticed the cotton wrappings around his neck until Bido pointed out this fact. _Could Dr. Marcoh have-_ Experimentally, he tried to form a word, but nothing had changed.

"Huh… I guess it could have just been a routine examination," Dolcetto shrugged. "A… tracheotomy, or something."

"I didn't know you even _knew_ big words like that," Bido grinned.

"Hey, give me _some_ credit. Just because I'm combined with a dog doesn't mean I'm stupid, or anything." Seeing Ed's stunned face, he continued. "Yep, that's right, kid. Me, Bido, all of us – we're human chimera."

Ed tried to wrap his mind around that idea, but it wasn't easy. At length, he pointed a shaky finger at himself and asked the silent question: _And me?_

"I dunno _what_ they're gonna do with you," Dolcetto sighed, scratching behind his ear with a lazy hand. "For the time being, you're still one-hundred-percent human. If you weren't, I'd be able to smell it on you in a heartbeat."

With that small amount of relief in mind, Ed began to relax. Through a combination of mouthing and charades, he found a rudimentary method of communication with the chimera, and when the others were hauled back to the cell, they made a sort of game out of the process.

Over the next few days, Ed learned all of his inmates' names, but no matter how many times he spelled his own name in the air, they wouldn't use it. In the end, Dolcetto started calling him "pup," and the pseudonym inevitably stuck. In a way, it was true; Ed _was_ almost like a pet to them, but in the best way. He was a ray of warm sunlight in their cold, dark world.

After nearly two weeks, Marcoh visited the cell to fetch him. Apparently, the report he had submitted had only just gone through, now that the war had come to an official close. _The war… is over?_ The news hit Ed like a bullet in the chest… like the bullet in Al's chest. If only they'd stayed two more weeks in Dublith, he and Alphonse could have avoided the danger altogether. The regret was more than he could bear.

"Hey, now," said Marcoh comfortingly, brushing a tear off of the boy's face. "Why don't I give you some good news?"

Ed raised an eyebrow, adjusting his seat on the edge of the examination table. Seeing his curiosity, Marcoh glanced around to make sure they were alone before continuing.

"You and I… are going to have a little secret. Before the war, I worked as a doctor for some time in an Ishvalan village. There was a boy there who had been deaf since birth, so, like you, he was unable to talk. But, he had learned a different way to communicate… with his hands. The monks of Ishvala spend periods of time under vows of silence, so they use a subtle sign language to converse during these phases. They gave the boy that gift of speech, and he, in turn, taught it to me. And now, I'm going to teach it to you."

Ed smiled genuinely for the first time in what felt like forever. He eagerly held out his hands, ready to begin immediately.

* * *

All in all, learning sign language was much easier than learning alchemy had been. Everything could be broken down into simple patterns of movement, and Ed was a voracious learner. In the evenings, when he returned to the group cell, he shared his lessons with the chimera, finally establishing a solid means of communicating with them. Soon, they could carry on entire conversations in the presence of the scientists without anyone who wasn't in on it noticing. Ed and Dolcetto often fell into competitions over who could throw more colorful insults faster, leaving everyone else either in the dust or in stitches. As the days dragged on, Ed felt like he had been accepted into the chimera's unofficial family, and that kindled the feeble flame of hope in his heart.

But then… a dark cloud covered their brief happiness. Marcoh was not alone when he came for Edward a little more than a month after their first secret lesson; Gold-Tooth was with him… and a third person Ed didn't know. The stranger had long, dark hair with a greenish shine to it, narrow eyes of an unnatural reddish-purple color, and the most impractical outfit Ed had ever seen.

[Nice man-skirt there, pal,] Dolcetto's fingers said.

[It looks like a palm tree landed on his head to die,] Ed added.

"So," said the newcomer in a voice that Ed honestly couldn't distinguish as a man's or a woman's, "this is the kid?"

"That is correct," said Gold-Tooth in an unusually sycophantic tone. "Marcoh's verified it; this boy has seen the Truth."

Now Ed was paying attention. The half-naked man (or, at least, Ed was running with the theory that he was, indeed, a man) stepped inside the room, kicking the chimera out of his way and growling, "Filthy beasts." When he reached Ed, he grabbed the small blonde by the neck and pulled him to his feet. He turned the boy's face toward the light… and something about Ed caused recognition and surprise to cross his features. "Where did you say Grand found this brat?"

"A rural village called Risembool," answered Gold-Tooth. "Why do you ask, Lord Envy?"

_Envy?_ Ed thought. _A weird name for a weird guy, I guess_.

"Hmm," Envy mused, "For a moment, I thought… It's nothing. I was just curious. So, you're absolutely positive this kid has performed Human Transmutation?"

"Without a doubt," Marcoh put in, speaking for the first time since entering. "When I examined him, there were clear signs. His vocal chords had just been… ripped out. That must have been his price."

"Okay, then." Envy faced the two doctors, keeping a loose, but present grip around Ed's neck. "You are to keep this boy alive until the Day of Reckoning. Other than that, do whatever the hell you want with him."

"As you command, Lord Envy," bowed Gold-Tooth, not bothering to hide his sadistic smile.

Beads of sweat trickled down Ed's face as his fingers asked, [Hey, do any of you know what this 'Day of Reckoning' is?]

[Only that Gold-Tooth rambles on and on about it,] replied Darius, a burly man with dark brown hair and the alchemically infused abilities of a gorilla.

Dolcetto's eyes followed the sinister doctor as the three men left. Once the door was shut and locked, he turned to Edward and sighed heavily. "I've seen that look on Gold-Tooth's face before. I'm sorry, pup. It looks like you're gonna become one of us after all."

* * *

A/N: Greed the First's future gang makes an appearance! I'm using the _Brotherhood_ spellings… because. Yes, I know them being in the Fifth Lab is more of a 2003 anime thing, but it's all going to work out. You'll see…

GAAAGH, may Gold-Tooth die a painful death! Oh, and I assume I don't have to explain what an IV is, right?

**Random, but relevant**: Have any of you heard of the epic fantasy series _The Belgariad_ and _The Mallorean_, both written by David Eddings? Well, I initially got the sign-language idea from the Drasnian Secret Language in those books.

Marcoh's such a good guy. First time writing him EVUH!

In case you couldn't tell, whenever a character is "speaking" in sign language, I enclose the words in square brackets [like so.]


	4. Rescuers

_**To Call Your Name**_

_**by AngelG93**_

* * *

A/N: Are you tense? I'm tense. SOMEONE SAVE ED, ONEGAI! *deep breath*

Ugh, late night hyper feelings do strange things to my brain. Ignore my ramblings. *pass out*

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Rescuers**

Ed's sleep was more troubled than usual that night. At first, he dreamed that Al stood at the top of a hill gazing into the distance, and no matter how many times Ed called his name or begged for forgiveness, the elder brother's words never reached the younger. Then, a murky darkness consumed the vision, leaving Ed in pitch black. The cold aura of the laboratory percolated into existence around him, but still he could not make out any of his surroundings. Ed challenged the darkness by asking if someone was there, only to find that his voice had deserted him once more. Had he woken without realizing it? Before he could test the validity of this theory, a crack of light appeared as a door swung inward. Gold-Tooth entered, smiling sinisterly.

"Have a good nap?" he asked. "I would expect so, since you slept soundly through the whole ordeal."

_Ordeal? What ordeal?_ Ed tilted his head, confused.

"Why, little one, I've already finished _perfecting_ you. A complete success." Gold-Tooth pointed at something to Ed's left and grinned, his metallic incisor glinting maliciously. "See for yourself."

As if compelled by an unseen force, Ed turned his head in the direction the scientist had indicated. On the far wall hung a plain mirror, and in it he saw… a monster, too inhuman and horrible for words. When he moved, so did it. _No, no, no, no, no… _A solitary tear leaked out of the deadened eyes. The gold-toothed doctor laughed maniacally, his insane cries ringing off of the stone walls-

Ed woke with a start, panting heavily. Immediately, he felt his body in the darkness to make sure that he was indeed still human. Once he had assured himself of this fact, the fear came rushing back upon him: so what if Gold-Tooth hadn't experimented on him yet? It wouldn't be long, and then he _would_ be a monster. The vividness of his nightmare had made the looming reality all the more frightening. His future was inevitable… and hopeless. Ed pulled his legs up against his chest and rocked as hot tears splashed against his knees. He stayed in that position until the faint light of morning seeped through miniscule cracks in the concrete and the inmates stirred. Even though the small blonde hastily tried to wipe his face and conceal his puffy red eyes, he wasn't fooling anyone.

"Maybe you shouldn't have told him, Dolcetto," said Roa. "He looks scared out of his mind."

"Well, who wouldn't be, in his shoes?" Bido grumbled.

Dolcetto immediately stepped in to defend himself. "A pup or not, he deserved to know the truth. That's more warning than most of us got before being spliced together with animals, poked and prodded like attractions in some tripped-out zoo."

"Stop it!" Martel chided. "You're only making it worse!"

Because the voiceless sobs barely made any noise, Dolcetto hadn't realized how damaging his words had been until Martel curbed him. Ed had buried his face behind his knees, unable to control the convulsions of utter terror. "Oh… hey… I'm sorry, pup. I wasn't thinking, I-"

"Get over there and try saying something reassuring," suggested Roa, nudging Dolcetto in the shoulder blades. The shorter chimera approached the trembling boy, lowering a hesitant hand toward the golden head, but he stopped an inch above the tangled mess of flaxen hair.

"What if…" he hypothesized, "what if we just didn't let them take him?"

"Are you insane?" said Zanpano from a distant corner.

"Yeah, how do you figure that'll work out?" added Jerso.

"Think about it," Dolcetto insisted. "The bastards in charge of this place are scientists, not warriors. We're stronger than them, surely."

"But, they have those guards," reminded Martel, "the empty suits of armor."

"If we have the willpower, we can do it. This whole time, we've let them keep us here because we didn't have a reason to resist, but that's different now. All of us can leave this goddamn place behind for good." Dolcetto finally patted Ed's head as he concluded, "How's that sound, pup? You want out?"

Ed looked up with hope and determination in his eyes once more. He nodded swiftly as an idea came to him. [Can someone untie my hands?] he signed. Roa obliged, pulling the ropes apart with brute strength. Ed flexed his wrists, glad to be able to move them freely. Once feeling had fully returned to his stiff arms, he clapped his hands and touched the floor of the cell. As he had hoped, a transmutation activated, and the stone took on the shape of a large hammer. Ed offered the weapon to Roa, who accepted the bludgeon gratefully.

"Whoa," Heinkel whistled. "If the pup can do _that_, maybe we _do_ stand a chance."

"That's the spirit," Dolcetto encouraged.

They laid out a rudimentary escape strategy as Ed transmuted more weapons. Despite how crazy their plan sounded, every inmate was in high spirits.

As evening approached, Darius sniffed the air and tensed. "They're coming. Get ready to move."

When Gold-Tooth appeared on the threshold, he had almost exactly the same expression on his face that he had worn in Ed's nightmare, but the small blonde did not let the sight dampen his resolve. He was _not_ going to stay in this hellhole. "It's time," the maniacal scientist chortled, rubbing his hands together excitedly. He seemed so caught up in gleeful anticipation that he didn't notice the lack of ropes around Ed's wrists.

As one force, the chimera moved toward the doctor, shielding Ed from him.

"Let's get one things straight, doc," Martel hissed. "You're not taking our pup."

"Oh?" Gold-Tooth's grin barely faltered as he motioned to his attendants. "How are you going to stop me, exactly?"

"Like this," Roa grunted. With one swoosh of the concrete hammer, the ox chimera smashed the doctor's head against the nearest wall with such intensity that a jelly-like ooze stained the stone after the twitching body sank to the floor. The orderlies and other scientists acted like beheaded chickens without their leader, running in all directions to avoid the stampede of chimera. A rare few, however, blew whistles and tried to rally their comrades. By the time the escapees had forced their way into the courtyard that encircled the laboratory, the scientists' backup had appeared. Ed hadn't wanted to believe Martel when she'd described the guards as empty suits of armor, but he couldn't deny the evidence of his own eyes. As the clanking ghosts surrounded them, the small blonde transmuted a spear out of the ground and pointed it threateningly at the nearest metal soldier.

"You aren't going anywhere," echoed a deep voice from one of the suits of armor as it hefted a long sword. "As the guardians of this place, there are certain people we don't let _in_… and others we don't let _out_."

"Yeah," cackled another armored warrior, scraping two meat cleavers against each other and showering the ground with sparks, "If you wanna die so badly, just ask, and I'll cut you up into tiny pieces! HA HA HA HA!"

"What now, genius?" Heinkel asked Dolcetto.

"What do you _think_? We fight."

* * *

Greed the Avaricious strode along the streets of Central, kicking up dust and looking for something to kill his boredom. Why had he even come back to this city? If the others caught him here, he'd be screwed for sure. Was it the thrill of such danger that had lured back him to his century-old romping grounds?

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a suit of armor flying across his path. The antique had been shredded to ribbons in several places, as if it had gotten too close to a vicious animal. Raising an interested eyebrow, Greed nudged the lifeless shell with his pointed boot and glanced in the direction from whence it came. Through a gate of metal bars, he could see about a dozen bestial creatures ferociously attacking more hollow warriors, forming a circle of protection around a young boy, perhaps ten or eleven years old. Something about that kid's face was familiar, but he needed a closer look to be sure. _Well, well_, _it looks like something interesting has turned up after all_.

Vaulting the gate with ease, the Homunculus dramatically entered the fray, hardening his body and letting loose. Against his Ultimate Shield, the tin cans claiming to be guards stood no chance, their thin armor forced to yield to his diamond-hard skin. When the enemies had been reduced to heaps of scrap metal, Greed turned to the scared-looking cluster of scientists who had watched the battle with trepidation.

"I'll take these guys off your hands," he told them, indicating the chimera. "I am a Homunculus, after all, so my decisions outrank yours." Before one of the researchers could raise an objection, Greed slashed open the gate and kicked away the metal kindling. "Suck it, losers!" he jeered at the helpless lackeys, letting the escapees run out ahead of him before he, too, disappeared into the glow of the sunset.

They didn't stop running until they reached the forest outside the boundaries of Central. Under the shelter of the trees, Greed lowered his shield and introduced himself. After they had fired off their own names, he offered them the chance to work for him.

"You saved our lives," said Zanpano, who had recently had the head and spikes of a razorback boar. "I think that warrants some dues on our part."

"Yeah," agreed Darius, "I don't have a problem following this guy."

"So, it's settled, then. You guys are gonna be my gang." Greed grinned at his new possessions before singling his attention on the golden-haired child, the only one who hadn't said his name. Eager to cover everyone, the boy had transmuted the vegetation of the forest floor into simple garments and was now passing them out (making sure the woman was first). "Quite the clever little alchemist, I see," he said to the child as the latter finished his task and gratefully pulled on his own set of clothes. Even in the dim evening light, Greed could see the young face clearly, and the resemblance was unmistakable. "A fascinating little runt, to be sure."

"Actually," corrected Dolcetto, "_I'm_ the runt. _He's_ the pup."

"Oh, I see. Well then, pup, I'm mighty curious as to how you come to have that face." The boy looked confused by this statement, so Greed asked clearly, "Your father, who is he?"

Frowning bitterly, the child made no verbal response, but his nimble fingers wove a pattern which Dolcetto translated, "He says, 'I don't give a damn about that man. If he hadn't up and left, my mom and little brother might not have died. I hate that bastard; it's because of him that I'm alone. But, if you really want to know, his name is Van Hohenheim.'"

_Hohenheim? The same Hohenheim from which Father was born? It has to be._ Greed was beyond ecstatic. Taking everyone by surprise, he hoisted the child into the air and twirled, laughing heartily. "Hot damn! Imagine my luck, finding the only living son of Van Hohenheim! Hell, my old man would _kill_ to get his hands on you, little one! No wonder you were locked up in that lab!" Still holding the small boy above his head, he grinned as he explained, "Know what this means, pup? We're related! You're technically my uncle, but since I'm nearly two hundred years older than you, let's consider that relationship switched. The point is: you and me, we're family."

"Those two, _related_?" whispered Bido. "I'm not seeing it. Is this Greed guy right in the head?"

"As long as he's offering us work, food, and shelter, who cares?" shrugged Jerso.

Greed finally set the child down and asked, "So, little nephew, what's your name?"

"Well, like I said before," Dolcetto filled in, "we just call him 'pup,' but his real name is Edward Elric."

"Gotcha," said the avaricious Homunculus, placing his hands on the young boy's shoulders and looking him directly in the eyes, purple on gold. "Well, then, Edward Elric, I swear on my Ultimate Shield that I won't let my siblings get their grubby hands on you ever again. You say you're alone, well not anymore. You're under my protection now. A kid your age needs a guide, someone to model after, and I can't think of anyone more suited to that task than me."

No words were needed to express the boy's gratitude and relief. Instead, Ed beamed and wrapped his scrawny arms around Greed's middle, hugging him tightly. The Homunculus ruffled the boy's tangled blonde hair and chuckled. "I've always wanted to try raising a kid – this'll be the most fun I've had in a hundred years." Turning to the chimera, he gave his first official order as boss of his new gang. "Well, then – let's get moving!"

* * *

A/N: Did I have you going for a moment there at the beginning? *troll face* INCEPTION!

Yeah, I killed off Gold-Tooth. I _wonder_ who'll be forced to take over operations at Lab Five…

Number 48 and Number 66 got a cameo appearance of sorts, but they didn't last very long, now _did_ they?

Isn't Greed just… wonderful? I'm having such a blast writing him. And, yes, Ed is a REALLY young uncle XD It's in an omake strip in the back of one of the manga volumes.


	5. Nomads

_**To Call Your Name**_

_**by AngelG93**_

* * *

A/N: THIS IS A TRANSITION CHAPTER! So, expect it to be lighter on plot. Half of its existence as a chapter at all is because people were so excited about how Greed was going to raise Ed.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Nomads**

Many months had passed since Ed and the chimera had escaped from the Fifth Laboratory and met Greed, and he honestly hadn't been this happy in years. As an avid pupil, Ed's ability to learn new skills from his unusual family never reached its limit. Swordfighting, stealing, spying – in all of these and more, the young alchemist showed talent. Greed, in his commitment to shaping Ed after his own example, taught the boy more subtle arts, ways to help a guy get what he wanted. The uncle and nephew would sometimes station themselves at outdoor cafés and charm any young ladies who chanced to walk by. Before long, Ed could use his innocent appearance to attract more giggles and blushing faces than his mentor. If Al or Winry could see him now, they might not even recognize him; he had adopted a liking for black and leather, pierced his left ear, and grown out a small portion of his hair so he could wear it in a tiny braid at the back of his head under a shorter top layer. Aside from externals, living with Greed had imbued in him a sort of wildness, what would earn him the stereotype of a "bad boy" from most people, but amongst the chimera and their Homunculus leader, Ed felt right at home doing as he pleased. It was simply what he had been taught.

Their motely gang never stopped for too long in one place, but Ed took advantage of every moment, picking up even more talents from strangers in the towns through which they passed. In one small city, the small blonde met a travelling musician who showed him the basics of piano. After that encounter, music became a whole new language to Ed, allowing him to express feelings that needed no words. In another village, he picked up some handy acrobatic skills from a circus performer. All in all, Greed said his nephew was growing into a fine young man. He even started calling Ed his trump card, especially after the small blonde managed to take on the entire rest of the gang and hold his own.

"What can I say?" he would exclaim, thumping his protégé on the back. "He's a chip off the old block."

Of course, as happy as his life was, Ed still had to deal with the nightmares that haunted him. They almost always involved Al, as if his younger brother was haunting him in order to torment him. But, Al wasn't the kind of boy to do such a thing, so Ed had to accept that these nightly visions were just products of his own guilt bubbling up like poison in a witch's cauldron. If he was in possession of a voice, his terrors would have kept most of the gang from sleeping; even as it was, his tossing and turning usually brought Dolcetto, who had become a sort of older brother to the small blonde, to his bedside.

"It's okay, pup," he would say soothingly, patting Ed on the shoulder as the child took shuddering gasps upon emerging from a nightmare. "We wouldn't let anything happen to ya."

Ed would give Dolcetto a reassuring smile as indication that he was okay, and then he would try to fall asleep again without revisiting his inner demons.

* * *

"Say," proposed Greed one afternoon in the summer of 1914, "I think it's time we moved on to our next locale."

[Any reason in particular?] Ed's fingers inquired.

"Just… a change in the wind, I suppose."

[In other words, your whim.]

Greed grinned down at his nephew. "Man, I just can't get anything past you anymore, can I?"

"He is a sharp pup," agreed Dolcetto.

"So, where are we headed, Greed?" asked Darius, crossing his beefy arms.

After an awkward pause, the Homunculus admitted, "No idea."

An audible groan came from the collected gang, accompanied by mutterings like, "Remind me again why we agreed to follow this guy," or "Does he even have a brain under all that spiked-up hair?"

[Hey!] snapped Ed, getting everyone attention by slamming his fist on a table. [The first person to suggest mutiny answers to me!]

"You heard the pup," Greed smirked. "I've picked up news of good things about the South this time of year; I'll see what I can dig up on our way down."

"Well, at least that's some form of plan, however loose it may be," Martel sighed.

"Right, everyone," marshaled Roa. "Time to start packing up!"

As the gang shuffled off, Greed pulled Ed into a playful side-hug. "You, little one, are a gem."

[Aw, it was nothing,] Ed shrugged, pretending to be embarrassed by the praise. Greed ruffled his nephew's hair and even landed a brief tickling attack that left the boy in silent squeals. Even though Ed begged for mercy, he secretly enjoyed the way Greed teased him. _That man_ never would have acted this way around him; _he_ had always been cold and distant. It was funny how, even though Ed still missed his little brother terribly, he had developed a love almost as strong for the family that had taken him in and kept him safe from Greed's Homunculi siblings.

"You daydreaming about something, Ed?" asked Greed nonchalantly.

The boy blinked and looked up at his uncle. [I guess I was, sorry.]

"No need to apologize," said the Homunculus with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Come on, pup. We might as well pitch in, too."

Nodding, Ed fell into step behind Greed, excited for their adventures in the South.

* * *

[So, what's the name of this place?] Ed's nimble hands asked as he and Dolcetto roamed the streets of a bustling town. [There are automail shops and mechanics everywhere!]

"It's called Rush Valley," answered the canine chimera. "And you shouldn't be surprised about the automail paraphernalia – the whole town's dedicated to the craft."

[Oh, I see.] Ed let the rest of his thoughts stay in his head: _It sounds like a place Winry would have loved to go. I wonder where she is, if she's okay. Al and I never did find out…_

He'd wondered about it plenty of times before. As Ed mulled over this puzzle, Dolcetto bought the supplies they had been sent out to purchase and signaled that it was time to head back to the others. Just as Ed started after his friend, someone carrying a large and heavy crate nearly ran into him.

"Oh, dear! Sorry about that." The rich, cheerful voice was soon followed by a girl's face peeking around the far edge of the crate. One look at her, and Ed's jaw just about fell off. That blonde hair, those big blue eyes…

Not wanting to mistake the girl for his childhood friend just because he'd been thinking about her, Ed decided to wait and observe. He awkwardly pointed to the crate to show he wanted to carry it for her.

"Thanks," the girl beamed, letting him take the weight of her burden. "If you could just set it down by that door, I'd really appreciate it."

Ed let her see one of his more charming smiles as he went to complete the simple task, and a little pink rose to her cheeks. Maybe she wasn't Winry after all; Edward had never known her to get embarrassed so easily. _Ah, well. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up_. After depositing the crate, he straightened and turned to find the girl holding out her hand to him.

"Thanks again. If you ever need a good mechanic, just let me know. The name's Winry Rockbell."

Ed's heart practically leapt into his mouth as he was seized by a sudden urge to tackle-hug his childhood friend. But, a realization stopped him: she hadn't recognized him. It honestly made him feel a little insulted; was he really so different from the rowdy, arrogant brat who'd played with her, who'd been almost like a brother to her? Deciding to have sweet payback for this unintentional offense, he remained pleasantly stone-faced as he shook her hand. She flushed again at his touch, which forced Ed to admit that Winry was capable of being flustered. Maybe it was a side effect of puberty; she'd gotten lots of good out of it. Ed had to exert considerable self-control in order not to let his gaze drift down to her… rather full chest.

"Well, uh…" Winry seemed indecisive about whether she wanted to release his hand or not. Finally, she asked, "What's your name, by the way?"

Here was an opportune moment for Ed to test how well she knew him, even if he had gotten a little more devil-may-care. In any case, he couldn't give her a normal answer, so he just squared his shoulders and grinned at her the way he always did when he'd won one of their childish games.

"What? You don't want to tell me?"

The smile slowly slid off of Ed's face as disappointment hit him again. _Winry, what's with you? Why can't you see that it's me?_

"Hey, pup!" Dolcetto called from across the square. "Come on!"

Ed reluctantly let go of Winry's hand and headed in the direction of his friend. The canine chimera had a sort of sagely, know-it-all expression on his face, as if to say, _"I shouldn't be surprised."_

"I swear," he groaned, "Greed's womanizing has rubbed off on you _way_ too much." Maybe it was his "dogged" sense of loyalty, but Dolcetto had never like how the Homunculus kept instilling philandering tendencies into the small blonde.

[I wasn't womanizing,] protested Ed.

Dolcetto puffed out his chest indignantly, like a dog about to howl at the moon. "Sure you weren't because Edward Elric's _never_ flirted with a cute girl before."

[Don't be so loud about it, dammit!]

"Regardless, we're putting this town behind us in a few hours, so there's no point in you leaving another trail of little broken hearts, got it?"

As Ed grumpily followed Dolcetto, he glanced back at Winry. Had the wind sent the chimera's words to her, carried his name to her ears? Her eyes had narrowed a little, as if she was studying his face carefully. He gave her one last smile and wave in farewell, and he could have sworn he saw joy light up her eyes and her lips form his name before she was lost in the crowd.

* * *

A/N: I'm nearing the end of one of my big crossover fics, and I'm about halfway through one of my other big crossover fics, so the time will soon be at hand when I can really get back to updating this story regularly.

For those of you who haven't seen my drawings of Ed for this story (and thus, don't have a visual for his hairdo), think Jim Hawkins from _Treasure Planet._ That was my inspiration for his hairstyle.

My EdWin sense is tingling…


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